


Technically A Kidnapping

by surexit



Category: due South
Genre: De-Aged, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-03-26
Updated: 2013-03-26
Packaged: 2017-12-06 14:53:32
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 677
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/736934
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/surexit/pseuds/surexit
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Something's happened to Ray.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technically A Kidnapping

“Oh dear,” Fraser said. Raymond Vecchio, newly child-sized and waking up from the deep and unnatural sleep he’d been in for the last few hours, blinked up at him with big eyes set around a nose that was _definitely_ too large for his face. 

“Who the hell are you?” he said, beginning to struggle to his feet and out of the blanket that Fraser had wrapped him in.

“Ray, we mustn’t panic,” Fraser said. “This may surprise you, but I have actually heard stories of this happening before. An Inuit elder once recounted to me a tale of a hunter who was surprised by a qalupalik. Now qalupaliks, as you probably know, steal children, so this particular one was very disappointed -”

“What’s going on?” Ray said, high voice quivering. “Where am I?”

“Ah, you’re in the Canadian consulate. Um.” Fraser looked around his office. He’d been possibly a little compromised in judgement, he acknowledges now, by the whole string of completely improbably events that had led to this conclusion, and it had seemed imperative that Ray not be seen by anyone. Particularly given that, in a certain light, it was Fraser’s fault that Ray was currently four feet tall. So he’d brought him here, and tried to make him comfortable while he slept, and now he had no idea where to begin with explanations.

“In _Canada_?”

“Technically yes, but not… actually?”

The hard-eyed stare was very like the adult Ray. “Have you kidnapped me?”

“Well, again, technically…” Fraser paused, and considered. “No,” he said, very firmly, and felt his neck get a little hot at the untruth. “I’m your friend,” he added hastily, which was completely and unassailably true.

“Sure,” Ray said. He sounded completely unconvinced. “If you hurt me, my pop will -” He stopped, and a spasm of uncertainty passed over his small face. “My pop will _get_ you,” he said, but he didn’t sound convinced. Fraser couldn’t help the sympathy that rose up in him, even as he knew that both the adult and the child would not and did not appreciate it.

“I’m not going to hurt you, Ray,” he said. “We’re going to find a way to get you back to -” He realised he’d missed out some crucial pieces in the story. “Ahem, sorry. I’ve been rather remiss in explanations. The year is 1995.” Always good to lay the groundwork. Ray blinked at him uninterestedly. “You’re currently thirty-five.” That made a wrinkle write itself across Ray’s brow. He seemed to be a remarkably calm child, and Fraser hopefully theorised that the volatile temper might have begun making itself known during puberty. “I know it sounds strange, but I’m sure we’ll work out how this happened. Ah, that’s the other thing. You’re a police detective.”

“No I’m not!” Ray said, voice suddenly and unexpectedly loud. Fraser winced and looked towards the door. He really didn’t want to answer questions about any of this, and it seemed his theory about Ray’s temper was not entirely accurate. “My pop says cops are a bunch of no-good, dirty, thieving…” He trailed into a mumble, and then squared his shoulders and said, “ _Motherfuckers_ ,” defiantly, glaring at Fraser as though daring him to object.

Fraser winced again. “Language, Ray.”

“My pop says,” Ray said, firmly.

“Well, your father…” Fraser couldn’t really think of any way to finish that sentence. “Anyway, you’re a very good police detective.” Ray seemed about to violently object again, and Fraser rushed through the next sentence. “You’re very good, and you’re going to help me find out how to get you back to normal, all right? Like a…” He cast around helplessly for something enticing. Ray watched him, dark eyes gleaming suspiciously. “Like a treasure hunt?”

“I don’t like treasure hunts.” Fraser was positive that there was an edge of smugness in Ray’s tone. “Call my mother.”

“That… wouldn’t be a good idea.”

“You’ve kidnapped me,” Ray said. “And my pop is going to _get_ you.” 

“I’m sure he will,” Fraser said, trying to be kind. “But in the meantime, we’re going to fix this.”


End file.
